


falling back

by yhighon



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Suicidal Thoughts, Touch-Starved, what of it, yes this is my third fic in a row w suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:20:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28039818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yhighon/pseuds/yhighon
Summary: And it’s made so much worse by the fact that he’d just gotten used to having friends, to having people care, after being stuck with Wilbur for so long. After all the war, all the fighting, he’d finally gotten used to having someone there, by his side and caring about him.It’s all been stripped away, and there’s just Dream.(Dream is the only one still around.)
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, in the past tho - Relationship
Comments: 5
Kudos: 169





	falling back

Tommy hates Dream. Hates him for ruining his life, for taking all of his friends from him, for exiling him to the woods where he was alone, away from everything he ever had. 

“I’m your friend, Tommy.” Dream says, and Tommy sighs before picking up everything from the party, throwing the cake away and leaving the chairs, the table.

It looks depressing, an empty party, but Tommy isn’t sad. He’s pissed.

They’ve all left him. Left him to rot in isolation, alone, with nothing but the mobs (and Dream) to keep him company. Leaving him to go insane, and moving on.

Moving on was the right thing to do, but Tommy wanted them to miss him. Wanted them to come visit and feel the pain that he felt every single day.

Tommy moved towards the Nether portal, his knuckles white from his grip on the pickaxe. Dream followed close behind, always fucking here, always around. (At least Dream was still here.)

“I’m destroying this fucking path. No one wants to see me anyway, no one is coming to visit and they all missed my party.” Tommy said, aware he sounds like a scorned child, a brat with his favorite toy taken away. 

“I don’t know why they didn’t come.” Dream says, and Tommy doesn’t really believe him, but it’s so hard to ignore when Dream was the only one who came, the only one that’s been there this whole time.

The one to pull him off the ledge, when he was ready to throw himself away.

He sets to work destroying the path, breaking it piece by piece. Tears blur his vision, and he blinks once, twice, three, four times before he can see the obsidian below his feet. It breaks, and falls into the lava, and Tommy wishes he would fall with it.

“Tubbo didn’t even come.” Tommy says, and that’s what hurts the most. Not the fact that his other friends didn’t come, like Fundy and Ranboo and everyone else who lived in L’manberg. Tubbo, his best friend, the only one to consistently be with him his whole life, had left him to die.

It almost hurt more than the exile.

Once he’s satisfied with the bridge, he holds the compass in his right hand, Your Tubbo glinting with the light from the lava. 

“What are you doing?” Dream says, sounding uncharacteristically concerned. 

“You said he lost it.” Tommy chokes out.

“He said he burned it.” Dream replies coldly, like Tubbo had simply taken out the trash.

“So I’m going to do the same thing.” Tommy says, and the compass turns in circles, around and around and around. 

“Maybe you should sleep on it.” Dream suggests, and Tommy doesn’t know why he’s saying that, shouldn’t he want Tommy to burn it? To finally distance himself from the people who were his friends? To get rid of the compass and everyone else, so that it’s only him?

He brings his hand back, ready to throw the compass into the lava, and hesitates. He can’t do it. As much as he wants to, as angry as he is, the compass stays in his hand, spinning.

He pockets the compass, and walks over to the new portal, standing outside of it.

“Do you wanna see the Christmas tree?” Dream offers, and Tommy wants to punch him. He feels pathetic, standing outside of the portal, with Dream standing next to him, in his armor, sword at the ready.

“Can I stay?” Tommy asks.

“For like ten seconds. To see the tree.” Dream says, and Tommy turns away.

“I can’t stay in L’manberg?” 

“They don’t want you there Tommy. That’s why they didn’t come to the party.” 

Tommy wants to punch him, wants to go through the portal and let Dream kill him, make it so it all ends. So he doesn’t have to deal with this anymore.

He walks away from the portal, precariously making his way back with a shoddy wooden bridge. He hopes he falls. Dream follows him back to the portal.

“Here.” Dream hands him a trident. “Try this.” 

He turns it around in his hands, before trying it. He shoots up into the air, the rain giving the trident range to bring him higher and higher. Eventually the rain stops, turning to snow.

It’s quiet. The snow falls around him, and he distantly hears Dream, warning him about going too high. He’s alone.

And he starts falling back.

-

The next day, he’s alone again. Even Dream is nowhere to be found, making him truly by himself for the first time. 

He distracts himself with random tasks, dumb things to do so he isn’t left alone with his thoughts for too long.

He isn’t getting better. That much has become obvious. If anything, he’s getting worse.

He’s felt like this before, shared long talks with Tubbo when towers began to look too inviting, too easy to jump off of. Too easy to splat against the ground and never have to feel anything again. It would be over.

But Tubbo isn’t here. No one is, except Tommy. 

Before he dies, he has to complete How To Sex 3. That’s the deal he makes with himself. He has to write his book before he can allow himself to die.

It works, for a little bit. He builds an office to write in, sets up the book, gathers materials.

In the back of his head, it seems pointless, when he’s going to die anyway.

He isn’t getting better. He’s been getting worse, for a long time, and he’s finally hit the breaking point.

He begs for someone, anyone, to talk to him. He gets lucky enough to catch Ranboo and Niki, but they’re doing something else and they don’t have time for him.

It’s almost a relief when Dream shows up, armor glistening in the sun.

“Hey Tommy.” Dream says, and Tommy fights the urge to cry at the sound of someone else saying his name.

“Hi Dream.” Tommy says dejectedly.

“You alright?” Dream asks, and Tommy’s breath catches in his throat, because someone cares. Even if it’s Dream, even if it’s the guy who ruined his life. Someone cares that Tommy might die, instead of leaving him to it.

“Yeah.” 

And it’s made so much worse by the fact that he’d just gotten used to having friends, to having people care, after being stuck with Wilbur for so long. After all the war, all the fighting, he’d finally gotten used to having someone there, by his side and caring about him.

It’s all been stripped away, and there’s just Dream.

Dream, who pulls him into a hug. Tommy could cry, here and now. It’s been so long since he’s been touched by another human, so long since he’s felt anyone even get within three feet of him. (He’s only exiled, but the others treat him like a china plate, delicate and easily broken.)

The armor Dream’s wearing is uncomfortable, and Tommy is awkwardly taller than him, but it’s more than he’s had in weeks.

Tommy cries, and Dream holds him.

**Author's Note:**

> uh yeah. me, projecting all my suicidal thoughts onto tommy's character? never. suicide? what's that? 
> 
> should make this shit a series. "in which dumb bitch writes about other people being suicidal so they can be in denial that everything is fine"
> 
> anyways. uh. don't kill urself ur so sexy <3333333


End file.
